Anne Reflects
by MrsWalterBlythe
Summary: Rilla and her mother have a heart to heart chat...Anne tells Rilla of her eldest sibling Joyce, and they talk of matches and marriages. Set November 1920. Strange? Could be. My first fanfic, so give me a chance! Oneshot, please r&r.


There were two gentle knocks at the door.

Anne Blythe reflected that nobody but Mrs Miller Douglas called at this time of evening – sharp on the dot of six, and of course just when dinner was being served. But tonight there wasn't much supper… after Anne's third child had flown the coop in the forenoon.

Jerry and Nan's wedding had been a rather glamorous affair…well, for the Islanders…three bridesmaids, Di, Una and Persis…and 'a whole unne'ssary lot of flowers, and that you may tie to' according to Susan. Though Susan had dived into the preparing of all sorts of delicacies for the wedding just as energetically as the bride's Uncle Davy had demolished them!

Reluctantly, Anne left her sewing of a small gown for a certain expected someone, promptly rearranged her shawl and opened the door to let the dark November night in.

A round, shapely figure with ruddy brown hair in a messy heap pinned on the crown of her head stood wrapped in a knobbly knitted cream yarn sweater. It was clear Anne's youngest daughter had not quite got the knack of this housewifely activity yet.

"_Mother!_ Oh, _do_ let me in to dear Ingleside, for Ken's away and darling as it is, the House o' Dreams _will_ get _fearfully _lonesome!" Rilla stumbled ecstatically over the threshold.

The doctor was in his office; but as mother and daughter entered the cosy 'parlour' Anne smiled secretly, noticing the office door was open a crack. Gilbert never interfered with Anne's 'feminine callers' but when it was someone important or interesting, such as his own daughter, Mrs Marshall Elliott or Mrs Miller Douglas, it was always amusing to 'have a little listen'. Anne imagined the amount of hysteric laughing that went on in there... and sometimes wished she could be there and join in until her sides split, but she daren't in front of the company.

As Anne picked up her sewing of frills and tucks, she followed Rilla's admiring and wanting eyes to the exquisite embroidered roses up the sides…the wee bows at the front. And then to Rilla's own rather round middle.

"I can never imagine not liking babies…germs, hah!" Rilla laughed bewilderedly, "And now little Jims is gone…has been for two years…I can't seem to get enough of cute small people! But I do worry about him…they say James Anderson is intoxicated, and his new wife doesn't do anything about it…says he can drink what he likes."

"It will be any week now, you know, Rilla," Anne smiled understandingly, remembering the hope and pain of her very first, wee Joyce, and then the sweet happiness of Little Jem. And now Jem was grown and married…a soon-to-be father…she was so proud. And Joyce, in a small, dark bed under a marked stone…but that she must not think of. Or should she? If she did not, she would forget…this confusion Anne had held for almost thirty years. Her mind wandered. Joy would be a grown woman now…perhaps a little mother, with her own little kiddies…her own dreams, hopes and joys…

"I have been hoping and planning and looking forward ever since the spring…" Rilla awakened her mother from the dream, "and now my little girl…for I feel _sure_ that it is a little girl… you know, Mother, you can just _feel_…my Gertie…Gertie I shall call her if my senses are correct, and she is a young lass…after Gertrude, you know Mother…she is almost here, it feels like all this hoping will come to a halt….you know Mother, _I_ think that it doesn't matter whatever happens _when _the special thing comes…I think it is much better to get the fun of hoping and looking forwards, even if your hopes are squashed after all…not that mine will, of course, Motherest of Mothers…"

"You remind me very much of myself sometimes, Rilla. That was not unlike something I once said – though it is usually true," here Anne recalled the episode of the Amethyst Brooch and the Sunday School Picnic, "sometimes it is in opposition. Have I ever told you about your eldest sibling Joyce?"

Rilla recalled something; her elder brothers and sisters had sometimes a-visited the House o' dreams to play with Ken or Persis, and Mother had always sent them off in the summer with a wee bunch of June lilies with flowers about as big as Rilla's three-year-old fingernail. Or in the cooler winter months, a lovingly picked bouquet of sweet snowdrops, as pale and milky-white as Rilla's adored Mother's beautiful skin. She had always whispered in her children's ears, 'For Our Joy', and somehow Rilla's clever siblings had understood.

"Not in full, dearest," and Rilla went over these faint recollections.

Anne smiled a forced, regretful smile, placed down her sewing for Gertie – or Jem and Faith's child, whichever came first – and folded her hands neatly in her lap. Rilla felt a long, moral-ish talk coming on. And her mother _could_ talk!

"*In early June, when the sandhills were a great glory of pink wild roses, and the Glen was smothered in apple-blossoms, your Aunt Marilla arrived at the little house, accompanied by a black horse-hair trunk, patterned with brass nails, which had reposed undisturbed in the Green Gables garret for half a century……*"

"_For the arrival…_"Rilla whispered in a voice barely audible. Her mother smiled as if to say 'yes', swallowed and carried on…describing the build-up…the planning, the happy expectant buzz that had occupied the dear House o' dreams just as it did again now, almost thirty years later.

"*One evening, when the sky's limpid bowl was filled with a red glory, and the robins were thrilling the golden twilight with jubilant hymns to the stars of the evening, there was a sudden commotion in the little house of dreams…telephone massages were sent up to the Glen, Doctor Dave and the white-capped nurse came hastily down, Aunt Marilla paced the garden walks between the quahog shells, murmuring prayers through her set lips…*"

_Those dear quahog shells…to think Aunt Marilla once paced between them! _thought Rilla, feeling a thrill go through her body and down to her toes.

"…dear *Susan sat in the kitchen with cotton wool in her ears and her apron over her head…the June night was short, Rilla, but it seemed like an eternity to those who waited and watched*…oh, my Rilla, I was so happy…I thought I had known happiness before, but that…but I wondered why your father was not gladder,"

Rilla felt a chill.

"I asked him if the baby…Little Joyce…was going to be all right." Anne did not say more, but as she looked up, she met her daughter's youthful, sorrowful eyes, and knew more was not needed.

"Oh, darling, you are right, I have no idea!" exclaimed Mrs Ford - ! – Mrs already!

"Now," Anne smiled a true, happy smile, "Let us drop all _painful_ topics…what did you think of dearest Nan's wedding today?"

Susan, passing the door with a pile of washed and starched linens, muttered beneath her breath, "_All those flowers, Mrs Doctor dear…it wasn't right_…"

Waiting until her plodding footsteps disappeared upstairs, Anne and Rilla exploded into fits of giggles that, if Susan had been there to see it, would have been branded as impolite for a woman of your age, Mrs Doctor dear, meaning no offense.

"Splendid, 'jolly good' as Uncle would say…" as the laughter died down.

"Excuse me, Mrs Ford, but which…Uncle?" for Anne and Gilbert had given their children many honorary 'Aunt's and 'Uncle's.

"Forgive me, Mrs Blythe, but what I am meaning is Uncle Davy."

More fits of laughter at this formality…for the fifty four and twenty year olds were still many years their junior at heart…and could show it when they wanted!

"Ahh…though I wish I could have stood up for her, too…it is too bad that I only was a bridesmaid once…and at Gertrude's wedding there was only _moi_! I wish I could be part of a whole _forest_ of bridesmaids, like at mine or Nan's," more soberly from Rilla.

"It's strange that, with all Nan's modernity, she did not choose a maid of honor…then you could have stood up, Rilla, married or not. So could have Faith and Mary Van – oh! Douglas."

"Ah me! it was not meant to be me, anyway, for look at the scandal that would have arisen…I can just imagine dear old Miss Cornelia. 'Have you ever heard of such a notion – an expecting bridesmaid!'"

"Now, Bertha Marilla, it is not for you to say such things of a good, Christian woman!" though under Anne's stern blue-gray eyes was wild laughter, "Persis Ford and Carl Meredith's marriage could hold some promise for you, Rilla…for Persis' modern notions are just as eager as Nan's, I am sure. All those years in Toronto! After all, she is your sister and Carl your good friend. I wonder how she will adapt to Island life? Not as well as Kenneth, I worry. Four Winds is out of the way from most juicy gossip…I guess Miss Cornelia still rambles on though! To think they will live in the old house of the Leslie_ Moore_ days! Aunt Leslie still isn't quite sure…it holds uncomfortable memories for her. But Owen adores the idea. That is where they first met, I am sure! They will be close to you and Ken at least. And trust Persis to clear it of gloomy thoughts - the house will be _reborn…_doesn't that give you a thrill, daughter o' mine?"

Rilla smiled half-heartedly.

"Why, Rilla, what_ever _is the matter?"

"Mother………" sorrowfully, "this is the last winter I am going to be living in the house o' dreams," seeing her mother's concerned face, she knew she could not hide away from the truth any longer. Sighing, she explained, "Ken has had an offer for a job with the _Times _in Toronto. Compared to _Glen Notes_, this is a huge promotion and opportunity for him. Of course, he would not accept the job unless I am willing to consent, but – he can not turn it down! Plus, Toronto is his home, Mother. We will live in Aunt Leslie and Uncle Owen's apartment. They were planning to move in to the Glen anyway, to be close to family – both of their children here – and _you_! But now they have decided to take over the House of Dreams, as we will be going."

"How long have you known this?"

"Since September…"

"When will you be leaving?"

"Oh…in the summer…Baby will be here by then, and old enough to handle it...and I will be – strong – enough…"

"Are you leaving us forever, my Rilla?"

Anne's change in tone distressed Rilla…she sounded so broken up.

"No, mother dearwums…that's the best bit…it's only a six year contract." Anne looked none less distressed. Sudden sorrow filled Rilla's heart – it wasn't like _her_ to have to cheer _mother_ up! She fell at her mothers feet and laid her ruddy brown head on Anne's begowned lap – _just like old times._

"Oh, I know six years is a long time…but we can look forward to the end of it…and that's at least a bit of good, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, Rilla, I cannot worry you like this. I am indeed very happy for you. Don't mind me! You are right – and for a middle aged woman like I six years is a mere trifle! I still have two children in Glen St Mary – Di comes home from Redmond in the vacation, and Nan really is not too far away, in Nova Scotia…to think of the coincidence that Jerry got the Bolingbroke manse! I suppose your grandparents, Walter and Bertha Shirley once attended it! Doesn't that give you a thrill as well? This world really is full of thrills…I'm glad they are mainly pleasant.

"It's just that I feel I am losing you all, one by one, first……" there was an uncomfortable silence, "…anyway, second, you, Rilla darling……then my Little Jem……now Nan……soon Shirley……and Di……" she did not finish this, and Anne realized she could have done without this sentence. But her daughter understood…Di had been receiving large letters from Avonlea nearly every other day, and she shied away or blushed whenever Shirley mentioned his recent engagement to Victoria Keith or his plans for his farm at Green Gables – and especially when he had mentioned his future close neighbors at Lone Willow Farm.

Also when Anne had told them that her old childhood 'bosom' friend and her family would come to visit Ingleside for Christmas – except for poor Fred, Jr., God bless his soul, and Cordy, who had already settled down with a family ('To think one of my children would ever come to marry a Sloane! But Sloanes do not have much of the Sloanishness about them anymore…they are a real good lot, Anne,' wrote Diana Barry Wright). And some people wondered if it was a coincidence that both Di Blythe and Jack Wright were taking an accelerated course at Redmond at exactly the same time!

"It is like you are all cupped in my hands like hourglass sand, but you are slowly slipping through my fingers – _so _– and I just want to hold my hands together tight and not let you become any further from me…but I know I shouldn't – _can't_. Oh, darling, I am beginning to feel so very old…I am soon to be a grandmother!"

Rilla studied her mother's face, her beautiful nose, all sign of freckles gone, and the slight creases on her forehead and around her nose and mouth. The pain she had been through…she had lost two well-beloved children, and the rest were 'slipping through her fingers', slowly but surely.

"I am sure that in thirty years time I will be having a talk like this with_ my_ daughter…and my children will go away _too _and have happy marriages to beautiful women and dashing men," said Rilla with a sigh.

"But you mustn't rush through your book of life, Rilla. You must re-read helpful chapters, and linger on the sweet, colorful pages. Never let age get ahead of you, my daughter.

"My, how I have worked and waited to be here, right now, like this, and _I_ will not set a bad example in saying it was not worthwhile. I am as happy as a woman like me can be – oh, how I love you all! Love the world! Love my _life_!"

_A/N: This is my first fanfic, so if it is not that good, please forgive me! Thank you for taking your time to read it, anyway! Anything I could improve? Write a review and tell me! Just in case you were curious about Victoria Keith (named for the Queen-weird, but who cares), then, yes, she is Davy and Millie's daughter. She is quite frail and quiet, but her father wanted her to go to Queen's, where she meets Shirley. They have never met before, but have heard of each other. Then, after the war they re-meet at Redmond College. They are very alike in personality, and get along well. Victoria takes after her Aunt Dora. Also, I don't know if i made this clear, but I decided to kill of Fred Wright, Jr., in the Great War. Jack and Di understand each other very well because both of them lost their beloved brothers in the same way. But, as poor Fred was rather a lot older, I decided he was already married and left behind three children._

_Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of the characters except the 'Gertie' of Rilla's fancy. Also, the text within the stars is all copied from LM Montgomery's Anne's House of Dreams, with 'dear' s and 'Rilla' s added where I thought appropriate in Anne's speech. I did not write it, though I just wish I was that good!  
_


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